


Momentos

by seleenermparis



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Inheritance, Minor Oc Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 03:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18380048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seleenermparis/pseuds/seleenermparis
Summary: When he got the message a lawyer wanted to to talk to him about an inheritance and it wasn't from his father. Which meant there was only one other person, and he didn't want it. She wasn't dead.





	Momentos

When he got the message that a lawyer wanted to talk to him about an inheritance, he immediately called his sister about their father. Castis Vakarian was still in the land of the living. Which meant, there was only one other person who it was from and he didn't want it. She wasn't dead. She couldn't be. Whatever it was, she was going to need it when she came back.

It had been Liara who convinced him to go and find out what she wanted to bequeath to him. Despite his lack of closeness with the Asari, her words echoed. "Garrus, you meant something special to her. If she left you something, she wanted to give you a momento to remember her by. 

"I don't need a momento to remember her by." He muttered to himself, shutting his eyes to hold his tears at bay. "She's unforgettable." 

"Mister Vakarian," The secretary called him. "Miss Owens is ready for you."

He nodded and stood up to enter the chambers. The brunette stood, reaching out to shake his three-fingered talon. It was a difficult feat for her to accomplish with her enlarged, pregnant abdomen and the wide desk. "Mr. Vakarian, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I just wish it was under better circumstances."

His only response was to nod. He noted the box on the black oak table. The medium sized safety deposit box was locked and the key was sitting next to the last will and testament of his former commander and friend. 

"Since you weren't here for the original reading, do you want me to read it to you?"

"No."

"Alright, let's skip to the business at hand, then. Jane left you the contents of this box. Along with it, she left this letter addressed to you." She handed the Turian the envelope and he raised an eyebrow at the lack of technological effort. It was hand written, but it was in her native tongue; a language he couldn't read. Noting his frown, she encouraged him. "I had it translated. My secretary's bondmate is a Turian. He was able to translate it for you."

"Appreciated." He flipped the pages over to the back side and there was the translation. He took the key and opened the box. Inside, he found a set of keys, a necklace with a small pendent and one of her dog tags, and a data pad. His attention went back to the letter.

_Garrus,_

_Out of all the letters I wrote the crew, yours was the hardest. Mostly because I never really thought you were my subordinate. You are my friend, my best friend. I hope by the time you read this you're: my lover, my partner, my husband, and my bondmate..._

He chuckled at her redundancy then looked at the date written in the top right corner of the letter. He realized she wrote this, back on the Normandy. The SR-1. It was right before they killed Saren. Did she really have feelings for him all the way back then?

_...I never knew my crew would so quickly become my family. Despite my mother still being alive, I never really felt my mother was family. She was more concerned about her career than me. Hell, she's more concerned about MY career than me. When you came into my life, you were unexpected; something a soldier doesn't have too much of due to our ridged lifestyle. Sure, the odd romp in the sheets on shore leave to blow off steam, but when I met you; my desire for that was thrown out the window._

_I guess I should get to the part where I explain why I'm leaving you the things in this box._

_The keys are for my place. No, not the one on the Citadel. The place where I wanted to live the remainder of my days once I retired. I guess by the time_ you _get this, I'll be beyond fucking retired. I put the navigational coordinates on the data pad inside this box._

_I'm sure by now you're wondering about the necklace. Back on Earth, there is a custom in ancient History about Knights (a commander type position in the military) riding into battle with trinkets such as these. They were usually from their lover or their lady who they were fighting for. Hence the name: his lady's favor. Riding into battle with it, would remind him not only of what he was fighting for, but why he needed to return home safe. Usually, it would involve a piece of her hair or a scrap from her dress. I decided to give you the former. Inside the locket is a lock of my hair._

_You see, before Humans had imaging devices, this custom was common. The locket would keep the keepsake close to one's heart, as much as the person who gifted it to them meant to them._

_You're going to go into a different kind of battle now that I'm gone. I wanted you to have a piece of me to go with you. To ride into battle with to remind you what you are fighting for and to return home safe even though I am now gone. I don't want to see you anytime soon, got that Turian? When you get up here, to this bar in the sky or wherever the hell it is, you best have a fucking long list of stories to tell me of the time after I left. Got that?_

_-Jane._

He looked up and took the necklace out of the box. He held the small, cold object in his hand. Without much more pleasantries, he left the office and once outside the door a beeping notification came to him, informing him of another incoming message. When he took it out of his bag, the locket fell out of it. Quickly catching it in his hand, his attention went to the dog tag.

**Shepard, Jane Omega**

**Rank: Commander Alliance Navy, N7**

**Service number: 135520135**

**Birthdate: 1/18/91**

**Religion: Afterlife**

His eyebrow lifted at the information on the tag. It was all wrong and this infuriated him. Her middle name wasn't Omega. It was her mother's name: Hannah. Her birthdate was also completely wrong. April 11, 2154. 2191? That date didn't even happen yet. After life? What kind of religion was that? Her service number wasn't even in the correct format. He had typed it in the C-Sec database, trying to find any information on her before he joined up with her, he had it memorized. He growled, "it's 5923-AC-2826."

Then it dawned on the former detective. Number/ letter replacement coding. He smiled fondly at it and began pulling up the Human English alphabet. "Well, I'll be damned. I knew you were still out there."

 

***

 

**Author's Note:**

> Insert standard disclaimer legal crapola here. I don't own shiz...blah blah blah
> 
> Not sure if this is going to be continued. It might just be a short. We'll see how it goes. For now, it's a oneshot.


End file.
